


Sharper than Steel

by limesicle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Season 4 Spoilers, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 19:18:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12488968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limesicle/pseuds/limesicle
Summary: After Keith left Voltron for the Blade of Marmora, Lance has hardly seen him, but they've been keeping up via space text–or rather, Lance sends a lot of messages and Keith responds every once in a while. But even for Keith, 4 days of nothing is a lot, and Lance is getting worried. It only gets worse when other members of the Blade return only with his knife.





	Sharper than Steel

**Author's Note:**

> This occurs sometime during season 4, after Pidge has found Matt, and Keith has gone off to join the Blade.

Lance paces the corridor. When he reaches the end, he turns on his heel and goes the other direction. The castle feels emptier than usual with Pidge and Matt off to investigate lead they found about their father and Keith gone on another mission. Lance finds himself counting down the days before Keith is supposed to return, and he’s already reached 0. By now, he should’ve gotten used to the absence of the ex-red paladin. Keith has been with the Blade of Marmora, hardly pausing to read the messages Lance sent via space-texting. He hasn’t gotten a reply in 4 days, and even for lone wolf Keith, that’s a lot of days. 

 

Keith’s current mission was supposed to last 10 days at most, so Lance has tried to be patient even though waiting calmly isn’t one of his strong suits. His nerves are at their limit. He’s sat awake gaming for what felt like 24 hours straight, and he still couldn’t get Keith out of his head. His thoughts go around in circles, even as he sits, hangs out, or plans with the other paladins. He hides his anxieties well, but he knows Hunk has started to notice, and it won’t belong before the others do, too. 

 

He stops pacing. It has done nothing to help clear his thoughts. Instead of heading back to his room and trying to sleep, Lance makes his way to the hangar for the red lion. Red misses Keith, too, even if the feeling isn’t put into words, and Lance finds comfort in it. When he reaches the hangar, the lion’s eyes flare to life and he turns to face Lance.

 

“Hey,” he says, bumping his fist against the lion’s nose. “If Keith makes me wait another week, I’m going to go out and find him myself. And then kill him–for making me worry.”

 

Even if Red doesn’t answer all of his ramblings, it feels good to talk. Every now and then, the lion will hum a low response or send a feeling through their telepathic bond. Lance ends up falling asleep in the cockpit, the walls glowing a low, gentle crimson. He dreams of Keith. At one point, he would have hated himself for letting Keith bother him even in his sleep, but now he longs for it. Lance wakes with aches all over his body and tears gathering in his eyes. He looks around the red walls of the cockpit, and wrenches himself out of the seat. He sends a message to Keith.

 

_ reds starting to miss you _

_ thought i’d tell u  _

_ since  _

_ u kno _

_ lions cant text _

 

During the day, Lance does his best to focus on escorting convoys or engaging with the inhabitants of one of the planets of their coalition, but his mind is elsewhere. Hunk starts subtly following him around, and Lance knows it’s because he’s worried. He could talk to Hunk about it, but it’s a stupid concern. Keith is strong and stubborn. There’s no need to worry about him. Lance tries a little harder to fake his smile and be the dashing hero of the universe that he usually is.

 

At minus 6 days, he wants so badly to go find Keith that he makes it all the way to the red lion with a bag of emergency supplies, before stopping. When he does, he leans against Red and slides down onto the floor. He rests his arms on his knees and lets his head drop. Red lets out a low growl. He’s ready to leap into space and search the entire universe for Keith if Lance is. After sitting for who knows how long, Lance gets to his feet and puts the supplies in the cockpit.

 

_ if u need saving _

_ i know a guy _

_ hes the charming defender of the universe _

_ adn is always happy to save a damsel in distress _

_ *dude in distress _

 

Later, there’s a food drive for one of the recently-freed planets. Lance goes through the motions, but hardly sees the people in front of him as he hands them their box and gives them a smile. The line seems to be endless, but eventually they reach the end of it. Lance lets out a sigh and relaxes against the nearest wall. He has a headache, and at this point, all he wants to do is sleep. His eyes are just closing when he feels a hand on his shoulder. 

 

“Lance, are you doing okay?” 

“Wha–Hunk? Yeah, fine. Why do you ask?” If Hunk wasn’t suspicious of his behavior before, he certainly is now. Good job, Lance.

“You seem down. There were several alien girls you would usually flirt with in the queue, but you didn’t even wink at them.”

“Maybe I’m maturing,” Lance replies, shrugging off the hand on his shoulder.

Hunk sighs. “I know you miss Keith, but we’re all here to support you. We miss him, to–”

“Keith!” He shrieks, voice slipping into falsetto. “Who said anything about  _ him _ ?”

“As I said, we all miss him, too. I’ll make cookies when we get back to the castle, and then you can complain about Keith all you want. Sound good?”

 

Lance nods after a moment, and Hunk goes on his way to finish packing up the supplies. It turns out that talking to Hunk over a fresh batch of blue cookies really does help calm his worries, but only a little bit. When he gets back to his room, he checks the messages even though he knows there won’t be a response. He fills the empty space with a message of his own.

 

_ hunk says he misses u _

 

His fingers hesitate, hovering above the screen. It’s stupid to text someone who isn’t responding, but he’s never been good at letting go.

 

_ who am i kidding _

_ I miss u too _

 

Allura has already contacted Kolivan and received a reply. But the reply only said that Keith was no longer a paladin and therefore not of her concern. Another message was received shortly afterward saying that they would be notified upon Keith’s return. Lance sends another space-text to Keith. 

 

_ hey buddy  _

_ I have a couple things i wanna say  _

_ 1 ur boss is a turd _

_ and 2 come back _

 

At minus 9 days, he’s ready to take on every member of the Blade of Marmora bare-handed, if they’ll tell him where Keith is. Or even give him a hint. If he knows the details of Keith’s mission, maybe he could do something about it, like chase after him or rescue him.

 

Another day passes, and Lance spends most of it in the red lion’s cockpit. The rest of the castle seems to big and too empty. Being in his room makes him feel too alone. But being in the red lion gives him a slight source of comfort. Maybe it’s because Red used to be Keith’s lion. Just as Lance is about to fall into a restless sleep, he hears Allura’s voice through the comm.

 

“Lance, Kolivan just sent word that they have news. Guessing from his tone of voice, it’s not good. I want you to be prepared.”

 

He leaps out of the seat so fast that he nearly faceplants into one of the control boards. After regaining his balance, he rushes to the bridge where Allura is waiting. She greets him with a strained smile. He’s forced to wait in painful silence for what feels like hours with the other paladins. None of them want to speak their fears. When at last the representatives from the Blades appear, Lance has to use every ounce of self-restraint he possesses to listen to what they have to say instead of yell at them.

 

Kolivan does all the talking. Keith was part of a team for a mission following the new type of quintessence to trace the supply route to its final destination. The mission had been successful, but it was a team of four that left, but only two returned. Neither was Keith. They didn’t confirm the status of the two left behind, but the odds are terrible. Lance can feel himself breaking on the inside. He manages to keep his face relatively calm. He doesn’t cry. Not yet, not in front of the Blade of Marmora and not in front of Allura or the other paladins.

 

One of the others steps forward, something wrapped in cloth in her hands. She presents it balanced evenly on her palms. Lance stares at it blankly, feeling everything and nothing at once. He takes it and unwraps it carefully. Cloth falls away to reveal a sharp blade. It’s  _ his  _ knife. Lance looks up, a questioning look in his eyes.

 

“Our blades are a symbol of ourselves. Keith wanted you to have his.”

 

Lance swallows the lump in his throat. The most he can muster is a small nod and an attempt at an appreciative smile. Then he runs–not literally–but he heads straight for the exit without looking back. He ignores Allura’s call after him. He’ll apologize to them later. But for now, he has to somehow try to cope. He doesn’t stop until he’s nestled in the cockpit of the red lion with Keith’s knife clutched tightly in his hands. 

 

_ if ur actually dead im going to bring you back or die trying _

_ goddamit keith _

_ why do you do these things to me _

 

After he sends the messages that will probably remain unopened forever, he throws his tablet away and stares at the knife. 

 

Eventually, the red lion stirs. There’s someone approaching. The display flickers to life, showing him what’s outside his lion and the person who now stands in front of it. It’s Shiro. Lance curses under his breath. Of all people, it had to be Keith’s brother _. _ Lance doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now, but especially not the person who was closest to Keith–the person that has the right to be the most upset. He isn’t sure if he wants to confront Shiro ever, but especially not now when his eyes are swollen, and he’s gripping the knife so tightly it’s probably stuck there. Red opens his mouth to let Shiro in anyway. 

 

Lance brings his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. He can hear Shiro’s footsteps as he makes his way to where Lance sits. He even gives the wall a couple knocks to signal his presence like Lance didn’t know he was coming. 

 

“Lance,” Shiro says in a low and careful voice. “I know it’s hard.”

 

Shiro comes to a stop next to the control seat. His eyes catch on the blade, and he drops a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

 

“I just wanted you to know that I’m here if you want someone to talk to. I know what you’re going through.”

 

At this, Lance finds it in himself to look up. He hardly has a right to miss Keith. If anything, he should be the one comforting Shiro instead of the other way around. Lance swallows. The words that usually flow easily from his lips aren’t there now.

 

“I’m sorry,” Lance says, because he feels like it’s the only thing he can say. 

 

Shiro shakes his head. It’s not something Lance should be apologizing for. It’s not anyone’s fault in particular. They fall silent for a while.

 

“I didn’t realize you two were this close.”

“We aren’t. It’s just–” 

 

It’s just that Keith being gone makes him feel like part of himself is gone. He misses the deadpan jokes and the passion to do better that Keith always inspired in him. Instead of saying this aloud, he shakes his head. Lance brings the handle of the blade to his mouth. 

 

“–maybe we could have been,” he confesses.

“He wanted you to have his blade. You must mean a lot to him.”

 

Lance feels his chest clench, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows this is Shiro’s attempt at reassurance. Shiro gives him another pat on the shoulder and then leaves. Whether to give Lance space or to deal with his own feelings in private, he doesn’t know. Either way, Lance is left alone with nothing but the blade clutched in his hands and the low hum of feelings that flows from Red. He picks up his tablet and leafs through it aimlessly until he ends up on the messenger again.

 

_ if u want ur knife back _

_ ur gonna have to fight me for it _

 

When Lance wakes from a restless sleep, he makes himself get out of the red lion and go to his room. In the castle, the lights are low signaling the artificially induced nighttime. Lance lies down on his bed, sticking the knife under his pillow, like Keith used to. Somehow he can’t seem to get comfortable. After turning to one side and then the other, his sheets are a mess, and he’s no closer to falling asleep than he was before. 

 

Hunk comes to wake him up at around lunchtime. The rest of the day is surprisingly free. There are no planets to visit or rebels to assist. Their missions keep coming at a regular pace, but they haven’t been doing anything big, and they haven’t been attacked. He should be thankful for the peace, but he wants a distraction from missing Keith like a lovestruck idiot. 

 

_ That’s it _ , he realizes. Lance wants to hit his head against the wall. He’s been so caught up in worrying about Keith, that he never stopped to wonder why.

 

“Dios mío, I’m in love with him,” Lance says.

 

Hunk stops in his tracks. “Keith?” He asks in a voice that says he already knows the answer.

 

“Yeah.” Lance’s voice turns bitter. “I didn’t even tell him. I didn’t even notice. God, I’m such an idiot–the biggest idiot in the universe. I’ve been pining for–what? Six months? I had all that time to do something about it, but I only realize after he’s gone. What do I do? What if he’s really gone–and I never see him again?”

 

Hunk answers with a hug. And while Hunk’s hugs are one of the best things in the universe, Lance can still feel himself falling apart. 

 

“Maybe he’ll come back,” Hunk says, and while Lance knows it’s unlikely or practically impossible, he clings to the shred of hope he has left.

 

Lance sits heavily in a seat in the kitchen and absentmindedly watches Hunk do his thing. When he’s finished, they sit opposite each other. Lance picks at his food in painful, contemplative silence. He can feel Hunk’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t know what to say. After some time, Hunk picks himself up and starts to put the kitchen back in order. When he’s done, he turns to Lance again.

 

“Keith is strong. I’m sure that if there was a way to survive, he’ll have found it,” Hunk reassures.

 

Lance gives Hunk as much of a smile as he can muster. “I’m going to go train,” he says and leaves before Hunk questions him again.

 

_ i have something to tell you _

 

He hits send before he thinks about what he’s doing, but once the message is sent, he starts to question. Lance sets down the tablet quickly.

 

The training deck is empty. It’s most frequent occupant is gone, and Lance feels almost awkward trying to take his place. He sheds his jacket at the door and walks toward the center of the room. The only weapon he has is Keith’s knife. It weighs heavy in his right hand. In all honesty, he has no clue how to wield a blade, but he wants to try. Maybe in doing so, he’ll feel closer to Keith. Maybe in doing so, he’ll get closer to Keith. It seems stupid, but he’ll go for anything at this point.

 

He starts with one robot. While he hasn’t trained much in close-range combat, they’ve all had to do some of it in combat, so he manages to block the first hit. On the second, however, he trips and gets sent flying. Lance grits his teeth in determination. If Keith could do this, so can he. 

 

As he feels himself start to improve, he ups the level of the training robots. When Hunk comes to find him for dinner, he stands against three robots. He ends the training sequence with a breathless voice and wipes his face of sweat. He is several bruises and a few cuts worse for the wear, but the adrenaline pounding through his veins has made him feel a little better.

 

The expression on Hunk’s face is clearly worried, but he doesn’t say anything about Lance’s session with the training robots. Instead, he announces that dinner’s ready. After a quick shower and sticking Keith’s knife back under his pillow, he heads to dinner with the others. While he does his best to act the way he usually does, he can tell they’re keeping a closer eye on him than usual. Even Shiro, with clear dark circles under his eyes, keeps his watchful gaze on Lance.

 

In the following days, they rid another planet from Galra control, slowly making the empire’s hold on the universe weaker. Lance spends more time on the training deck every day. The knife always feels a little heavy in his hand, like it’s not supposed to be there, and he knows it’s not. When he holds hit, he feels like he’s holding a piece of Keith’s soul–of course it’s heavy. 

 

The others catch on to his new obsession quickly. Hunk notices first, then Pidge, then Shiro, then Allura and Coran. Hunk tries to persuade him away from wrecking his body by overexertion by tempting him with space cookies. Pidge tells him he’ll probably cut his hand off, which is probably just a different way of telling him to take care of himself, but he can’t be entirely sure. And Shiro–he finds Lance dripping with sweat and a gleam of cold determination in his eye, and he cuts off the sequence with a sharp command.

 

“Lance!”

 

When the robots disappear, he lets his body go slack. His breath comes quickly as his chest heaves. He scans Shiro’s face quickly, looking for judgement or some sort of reprimand. Instead, he sees disappointment and pain. 

 

“Rest is important, too,” Shiro says. “We need our sharpshooter in top form.”

 

He can feel the weight of the blade in his hand, and he wonders when the last time he shot a sentry was. The red bayard, that he can’t bring himself to call his own yet,  _ Keith’s bayard, _ is lying dormant in his room. 

 

“Maybe I’ll do target practice later,” Lance says. 

 

Shiro makes another face that Lance can’t read. Maybe it’s nostalgia or regret. Shiro opens his mouth to say something, but closes it after a second of silence. Another moment passes.

 

“Keith–” Shiro begins, but cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Don’t overwork yourself.”

 

Much of their time is spent strengthening diplomatic relations, but there are always planets to free from Galra control. Before one such undertaking, Lance pauses in his room and takes a moment to consider the knife. On a whim, he picks it up and presses the flat side of the blade to his lips. 

 

“I’ll be back,” he whispers to the empty room.

 

In the midst of battle, Lance pushes himself harder. He tries to master the abilities of the red lion when flying, and both close and long-range combat on the ground. He learns to switch his bayard from sniper rifle to sword with a flick of his wrist. The strain on his body is high. While he’s always been on the thin and lanky side, his body becomes hardly more than muscle and bone.

 

The messages he sends into the ether become habit. He sends his thoughts without hesitation. He talks about their missions, the peoples they meet, and the way the battles go. He talks about everything and anything. It becomes a log of what they’re doing and the mark they’re making on the universe.

 

_ galra bases on x---- destroyed _

_ fire powers r gettin better _

_ but _

_ I think red still likes u more than me _

 

The battles tick by. He grows immune to seeing the Galra ships flare with red and orange before turning to scrapmetal that litters the space between the stars. He still worries about his teammates–about Pidge who sometimes focuses too much on intel that attacks come from behind, about Hunk who still has a kind heart and never aims to kill, about Shiro whose orders can edge on cruel without noticing, whose eyes lose focus in seconds when images from the past come to haunt him, and about Allura who pushes herself to do too many things–she wants to be a diplomat, a princess, a figurehead, a warrior, a friend, an Altean, a paladin. Lance tries to be there to fill the cracks between them, because that’s the only thing he thinks he’s good enough to do.

 

Lance comes back from fights and watches his scars melt away in the magic of the cryopod. There should be a mark running lengthwise down his left eye and a mark where a blaster burned his armor away on his side, but his skin has knitted itself back together, leaving no evidence of the injuries he sustained. He becomes used to knowing injuries will be healed, so he grows careless in combat, and impervious to pain. 

 

It doesn’t matter when the laser of a blaster slices through his leg. He can still stand. With the ease gained from practice, he returns fire. His shot doesn’t miss. When he walks forward, he mentally registers the pain, but the acknowledgement of it has been separated from his body. His movements have not been slowed. He rendez-vous with Hunk at the next corner as per the instructions given in their ears by Pidge. Hunk still flinches at the site of blood. 

 

_ 27 prisoners freed _

_ 27 more for rebel forces _

 

When he walks out of the cryopod, his leg looks as if it had never been harmed. The fatigue that healing gives him weighs heavy in his mind. On his way back to his room, an announcement comes through: Kolivan has intel. Every time they work with the Blade of Marmora, something in his chest tightens. He knows it’s impossible, but his heart still yearns for word of Keith. This time is no different. He pauses as he walks to put a hand to his chest. This is the only kind of pain he hasn’t grown immune to yet.

 

There is a planet alone in its solar system, that has a high-security prison on it. There is reason to believe that several members of the Blade of Marmora, presumed dead, are in fact in that prison. The planet is far into Galra territory, with several military bases within close range, so an attempt at rescue would be risky. Lance’s eyes burn as he rallies the paladins and the Blade. This is a chance he has to take–a chance they have to take. 

 

They take one night to plan. Lance sleeps less than usual, one hand under his pillow, fingers curled around the hilt of the knife. If he does not find Keith today, he will finally force himself to give up. He searches the closet full of the previous blue paladin’s clothes to find a belt. He snaps on the guards of his paladin armor and straps the belt around his hips. Keith’s knife is wrapped with a cloth, and he brings the blade to his lips–it’s a ritual, a prayer that this will be the last time. He sticks it in the back of his belt.

 

_ keith  _

_ we are going to save you _

_ but if i don’t make it back _

_ I love you _

_ and i’ll always be your space ranger partner _

 

There’s something final about the way he sets his tablet on the shelf by his bed. Either he will find Keith and save him, or he will die trying. The red lion can sense a change in his attitude. His mind has honed in on a single focus, and he is hyper aware. The castle warps to a blind spot near within range of the planet, and uses Pidge and Matt’s cloaking device to hide from the eyes of the Galra Empire. Pidge goes with the Blade of Marmora first to disable the communications of the prison and map out the facility. 

 

Lance and Hunk target one military base, while Shiro and Allura target another. With this diversion, they should buy time for the stealth team to shut down communications in and out of the prison for the Galra. When they receive word that Pidge has completed the mapping, Lance races to the prison, and Hunk joins the team at the other military base. As Lance enters the atmosphere of the planet, he takes out the long-range cannons, which are the biggest threat.

 

As soon as Red hits the ground, Lance is out. He glances at the map Pidge has provided. There are five potential cells, and he heads toward the one closest to his location. He blasts sentries out of the way as he walks down the hallway, looking for the target. Lance feels the adrenaline rushing through his system; it almost feels like he’s alive again. With a scan of the lock, Pidge opens the door from the central command. 

 

The occupant is not who he’s looking for, but he blasts away the cuffs from his hands and feet with two well-aimed shots. 

 

“I am a paladin of Voltron, here to send this place up in smoke.”

 

Sunken yellow eyes stare up at him, but the prisoner doesn’t make a move. “Come on,” Lance urges, extending a hand.

 

The prisoner starts to move slowly, getting to his feet. “You’re not one of us.”

“No, but I am here to help. Do you know the names of the other prisoners?”

“I do not trust you.”

 

Lance hesitates for a moment. Since the red bayard is in his right hand, he reaches his left behind him to pull out the blade. The cloth wrapping falls away as he raises it, holding it so the symbol faces outward.

 

“Do you recognize this?”

 

The prisoner takes a step back. “How did you…? You’re not Galra.”

“It’s–” He takes a moment to find the words. “The owner of this blade said it was to be given to me. If you want to help, tell me what you know about other prisoners.”

 

He stares up into the yellow eyes of the Galra in front of him. Even weakened by neglect and who knows what torture, Lance is small in comparison. His blue eyes stare unwaveringly into the other’s. 

 

“Please, tell me.” He raises the knife. “For him.”

“There are several cells on this floor and two higher security ones below. We are kept in isolation–beyond this, I know nothing.”

 

Lance tucks the knife back into his belt and relays the information to Pidge before heading back into the hallway as he looks at the map. There isn’t a floor below them according to the initial reading. He shoots another sentry down and hands its gun to the prisoner. As he walks down the hallway, he spots a hand scanner that usually serves to unlock a door, but there’s no door in sight.

 

“Can you open this?” He jerks his head to the scanner.

 

The recently-freed prisoner places his palm over the screen. “It’s password locked.”

 

An alarm sounds through the prison. Failing to unlock the door must have set off something in the security system. 

  
“Pidge!” he yells through the comm.

“I know, I know!” is the only answer he gets.

 

With the invisible door to his back, he raises his bayard in rifle-form to his shoulder. There are sentries coming. Lots and lots of them. He tries to shoot them down as they come down the hallway, but there are too many. As they close in, another group appears at the other end of the hallway. Lance puts up his shield to protect his back and focuses on group at a time. There’s a sliding noise behind him, and he chances a glance to see that the wall has indeed opened.

 

“How–?” Lance starts to ask, but he’s roughly dragged through it.

“Used to be a hacker,” the prisoner explains.

 

The door slides closed behind them. He can hear the ragged breath of the Galra prisoner. Ahead of them is a flight of stairs that is dimly lit by pinkish purple lights. Lance descends them carefully, keeping his bayard pointed forward. There’s a door at the end of the hallway. It’s locked, of course. With Pidge’s help, the door slides open within a couple of minutes. 

 

Lance swears his heart stops beating. It’s– _ it can’t be. _ He’s unconscious, drugged perhaps. There’s a new scar just visible above the neck of the prisoner’s uniform. Black hair falls past his shoulders. Lance shoots away each of the restraints and catches the limp form in front of him.

 

“Hey,” he says, and he can hear his voice crack. “Hey, Keith.”

 

The comms that are usually buzzing with battle updates and orders go deathly silent.

 

“Lance, did you just say–” “He might be hallucinating–” “Keith? Did he really–”

 

“Keith,” Lance repeats. “Wake up.”

 

He kneels to the ground, supporting Keith’s head with one hand and prodding his cheek with the other. Violet eyes flutter open. Something in Lance’s chest that has long been dormant stirs, and his eyes sting.

 

“Lance?”

 

He doesn’t trust his voice enough to answer, so he offers a smile instead. Keith’s eyes slowly focus on his face. When he does, he sits up quickly.

  
“It’s not safe here,” Keith says. “There’s–”

 

But the prisoner Lance rescued earlier is already firing shots down the hallway. Lance sets Keith down quickly and rises to his feet, bayard gripped tightly in his right hand. The Galra who approaches is some sort of warden. His arms look weighed down with enhancements. Lance aims for a preemptive strike, but his first shots are deflected easily.

 

In the narrow space of the corridor, it’s difficult to get a good shot, but he knows close-range will be even worse with such a limited mobility. He tries to ricochet shots off the wall, but they’re harder to aim, and his opponent dodges quickly. He scans the robotic arms of his opponents for weaknesses at the joints. Sure enough, there seems to be a small gap at the wrists. Lance aims quickly and fires. There’s a satisfying sound of mechanics failing and a cloud of smoke.

 

The warden swipes his other hand down on Lance, cutting through the wall. Lance manages to defend with his shield, but gets thrown back into the door of the cell. 

 

“If you come quietly, you won’t suffer as much,” the warden tries to persuade him.

Lance gives a mirthless laugh. “I’d rather die.”

 

Glancing around, he knows he has to lead the warden away or risk being trapped in the cell. The problem is that the hallway is wide enough to pass by, but only barely. Then, a reckless idea strikes him. Lance braces himself and dashes forward, putting up the shield at the last moment and diving between the warden’s legs. The blow that was intended to catch him in the side brushes the top of his head. He rolls into the wall, but rights himself quickly. One of his ankles feels sprained, but it’s not enough to slow him down.

 

The warden whirls to face him, and he walks backward, getting farther down the hall and farther away from Keith. Lance fires a few more shots, but all of them are either blocked or ricochet the wrong way. If he gets in close, the most he can manage to do is avoid being hit by the warden’s active arm. He tries to gain a moment to hit the weak point in his armor, but his opponent is too close for him to aim properly. He switches his bayard to a sword, but all it does is make a horrible screeching noise as he blocks the next swing aimed for his head.

 

Something hits the warden in the back, and his eyes go blank. In another second, Lance skids out of the way as the Galra falls face forward, a knife–Keith’s knife–sticking out of the back of his neck. Looking down the hallway, he sees Keith, one hand pressed against the wall, the other forward as if he’d just thrown something. Lance pulls the blade out as he walks down the hallway.

 

Keith slides down the wall. By the time Lance reaches him, he’s sitting. He looks paler than usual, and his breathing seems too fast. Lance flicks the blood off the blade, then turns the handle towards Keith.

 

“Nice work, samurai,” he says.

Keith takes the blade carefully and weighs it in his hand. “You kept it with you.”

“Of course I did.”

 

Lance straightens up and offers Keith a hand. Keith stumbles slightly, and ends up with his weight pressed into Lance’s shoulder.

 

“I got you,” Lance reassures. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“In any case, let’s get you out of here.”

 

He takes one look at Keith’s condition and knows the other is in no position to walk. With a quickly muttered apology, hoists Keith onto one shoulder. The other prisoner follows them as they head back up to the main floor. Pidge has managed to disable the sentries, but an alarm signal was sent out. They need to move, and fast. If the power of all the in-range warships comes down on their heads, they’re done for. 

 

Lance runs down the hallway as best he can with Keith on his shoulder. A shot grazes his side. Lance turns around to see a Galra running after them. The other prisoner, a few feet behind Lance, stops as well. Lance readies his bayard, but with only one arm available, he knows his usual accuracy will be gone.

 

“Go,” the other prisoner hisses. “I’ll make sure no one follows you.”

 

Lance hesitates for a moment. He hears Keith urge him to wait, but he grits his teeth and starts running for the exit again. Once out of the facility, he can see Red again, but he can also see Galra ships in the sky. He curses and tries to quicken his pace, reaching his mind out to the red lion and urging him to take action. Red answers with a roar and leaps towards them. He scrambles into the lion’s mouth and into the cockpit, half-carrying, half-dragging Keith behind him. 

 

Keith leans on Lance’s uninjured side as Lance grabs the controls and takes flight. His fingers dig into Lance’s shoulders, but he can’t complain. Keith is alive; Keith is with him.

 

“Hold on tight, space cowboy,” he calls.

Keith responds with a small laugh. “I missed your dumb nicknames.”

“Don’t distract the driver, mullethead.”

“Not that one.”

 

Lance focuses his eyes forward. Through the comms, he knows that Pidge and the Blade of Marmora have left with the other prisoners in tow. Using Red’s mobility, he dodges the first few shots that rain down on them and then circles around the back of the prison. Using the facility as a shield, he turns on the cloaking device that Pidge and Matt installed in all their lions. Red leaps upward. Keith’s grip loosens, and Lance takes one hand off the controls to steady him.

 

“Stay with me, we just have to get to the castle.”

“Lance…” Keith’s voice sounds weaker.

“It’s just a couple ticks away.”

“Lance, why…”

“I lost you once, and I am not going through that again.”

 

Lance goes around a Galra ship. The castle is close, and he sees the warp gate open. He urges Red forward. One of Keith’s hands grips his thigh, and Lance struggles to hold the controls steady. He needs to concentrate on piloting, but with Keith close to him, he can hardly think. His emotions are a mess of frayed nerves, an aching heart, and the thrill of battle.

 

“Why didn’t you give up on me?”

 

Lance grits his teeth as the dive into the warp. Once in, he lets his shoulders relax slightly, and he lets his mind turn to Keith’s question.

 

“I couldn’t,” he confesses. “Even after they gave me your knife and all that. I didn’t want to believe it, so I…didn’t.”

“That’s so–” Keith searches for a word that fits. “That’s so stupid.”

 

There’s silence for a moment as Lance debates whether he should ask about the knife or not. But as he’s about to ask, he hears Keith slide to the floor.  _ Oh, quiznak. _ He informs the others by yelling through the comms. By the time he nearly crash-lands in the castle, there’s a cryopod ready. The moment Red’s mouth opens, Shiro and the others run in. Keith is put in one healing pod, and they stick Lance in another one. The others are thankfully unhurt–only exhausted.

 

Lance wakes first. When he does, he finds the other paladins, Allura, and Coran gathered around the other occupied cryopod. His stomach drops. Something is wrong. 

 

“–built up in his system. It could take weeks to get rid of the drug!” Pidge says in a frantic voice.

“That is a worst case scenario. His Galra anatomy seems to be helping him flush it out of his system faster, so I would estimate…a few quintants at most,” Coran says. “It’s really quite fascinating how the–oh, Lance, you’re awake!”

 

The group all turn to look at him, and Hunk catches him as he nearly trips out of the pod. They start to ask him how he is, but that’s not what he wants to talk about.

 

“Keith,” he interrupts. “What’s wrong with him?”

 

He watches their faces fall, and the uneasy feeling inside him gets stronger. Allura is the one that breaks the silence.

 

“He was sedated, but–”

“The sedative contains something that’s a low-level toxin to humans. Since he’s been exposed to it for so long it’s gotten to a level where it could be dangerous,” Pidge cuts in.

 

Lance clutches Hunk’s arm a little more tightly.

 

“Is there something we can do? An antidote?”

“In this case, it’s best to leave the healing up to the pod and to Keith himself. He’ll be out before you know it,” Coran says.

 

Lance spends the days on the training deck. He leaves the knife in his room, planning to return it when Keith wakes up, and uses his bayard to train. The physical exertion leaves his body tired enough that he can actually fall asleep at night. He still wakes often in the middle of the night, cold sweat drenching his body, and the shadow of a nightmare fleeing from his mind.

 

Then, one day, as he’s training, he hears someone come in. Since he knows the others come to observe–or bother–him, he doesn’t think anything of it until he catches sight of a red jacket out of the corner of his eye. The training robot sends him flying backwards. He dispatches it with a slash of his bayard.

 

“Keith?” He asks, breathless from the training session.

 

He notes that Keith’s hair is back to it’s normal length, and while he looks tired, he looks healthy. The scar that cuts from under his chin almost down to his collarbone is almost invisible.

 

“Hey, am I really going to have to fight you to get my knife back?” Keith says, and there’s a slight smile on his face.

 

Lance nearly drops his bayard. 

 

“You… uh, the messages–did you read them? All of them?”

“Just all 437.”

“I–uh, well… I didn’t think you’d ever read those. Not that I thought– I mean…”

“Lance, shut up.”

 

He shuts up. His face is burning, and he can’t tell if Keith is making fun of him or what. His brain is still trying to process the fact that Keith read all 437 lines of his stupid rambling as well as his _quiznaking_ _confession of love_. At the moment, disappearing into the endless void seems less painful than staring anywhere other than Keith.

 

“Lance, I…I lov– I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you a lot, too. C’mere,” Lance says, holding out his arms.

 

Keith looks up, and they stare at each other. Lance almost thinks that Keith is going to run off and leave him hanging, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks up to Lance and buries his very red face in his shoulder. With the way his heart is beating, he thinks Keith must be able to hear it. Lance pats his back gently.

 

“So… I don’t want to ruin the moment, but are we going to say anything about the fact that we might kinda like each other?” Lance asks timidly.

“I realized I liked you a little after the whole thing with Sendak,” Keith says in a muffled voice.

“I realized I liked you a little after I thought you were kind of dead.” 

 

Keith stiffens. “Sorry,” Lance says quickly. “Quiznak.”

 

Lance takes a step back and takes Keith’s hands in his own.

 

“Keith, if you read all the messages, then you read…that.”

“I–” Keith bites his lip. “I feel the same.”

“Just to clarify, we are talking about the thing where I said ‘I love you’ and not when I was talking about pineapple on pizza or–”

“Yes, Lance, I love you, too. But, pineapple on pizza is–”

“Amazing.” “Disgusting!”

“I can’t believe this, I’m going to have to break up with you.”

 

They both dissolve into easy laughter, and they are both definitely not getting teary. Keith sniffles loudly.

 

“I hate you,” he mutters.

“You’re a terrible liar, Keith.”

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,
> 
> I just wanted to write about Lance being given Keith's knife after he went missing, and it turned into this. This is unbeta'd and unedited so let me know if there are any errors! Comments/constructive criticism are always appreciated. Thanks for reading <3


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